No Longer Required
by Melicress
Summary: To join the military, to please a father, to avenge a mother. To what purpose does it really serve if the father is never happy? Athrun and Patrick Zala.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot. I don't own gundam seed.

**Warnings:** None...yet:)

**I wrote this ****fic**** just for an outlet of the ideas in my head that won't go in my other story. I don't know if I'll continue or not. I will give cookies to reviewers ****though :D**

**The Change of Grief**

Athrun didn't know when it all changed. When suddenly that father that would support him and urge him on turned his back and became distant. When suddenly whenever he tried to speak, he would be silenced. When suddenly whenever he tried to show his affection, he would be pushed away. Maybe it was because he wasn't good enough. Maybe it was because of the war. It could have been several of many things, but deep down Athrun suspected there was a deeper reason behind it. His eyes, his face, his soft blue hair, they all reminded his father of her.

Patrick Zala had never really been a loving father, but he had never been cruel. Not like he was now. He didn't like it when Athrun expressed interest in things like building machines or taking long walks. He wanted his son to focus on more "important" matters, like gun fighting, strategy, and politics. Whenever Athrun did those kinds of things, he was practically showered with praise. He had to sneak out of the house to do things like fiddle with spare wires and play with his friend, Kira. Every time he was caught doing such things, his father would come down in a rage, shouting until the windows were at a breaking point. "How can you focus on such trivial things? You may be young, but that is no excuse! You are here to uphold the Zala name! Nothing else! You can't go around and do things as you please! You must follow our wishes! Both your mother's, and mine!"

Often after his father had been in such a mood, Athrun would retreat to his bedroom, trying to see the good in what his father wanted. He really just wanted to relax for a change without having to worry about angering anybody. He could only really do it around Kira, and his mother. His mother was every thing his father was not. Kind, loving, understanding, and above all, gentle. But she was never around for too long. Once Athrun had reached the age of five, Patrick had convinced his wife that Athrun should come to his office more often, to experience the role that he would soon be taking up. Everyday after-school, Athrun would be picked up by his father and taken to the workplace. All he would hear were endless conversations about the economy, populations, hostile nations, and other complex matters. While other children were out playing, Athrun Zala was waiting in silence for his father to be done work.

But then, it all changed.

Nuclear weapons, fired straight at Junius Seven. Explosions and radiation. The Bloody Valentine tragedy took place, destroying millions of innocent lives. Among the piles of burnt ashes, there lay the grey remains of Lenore Zala.

When that benevolent face had disappeared, his father could no longer stand to look at him. He would avoid him on purpose, saying that he had too much work too do. His father couldn't look at that face. The face that reflected everything his wife had possessed. And worse, child-like innocence. At first, Athrun believed his father's words, sending himself out to grieve alone, respecting his father's wishes. But after many many months of the same excuses, Athrun realized that his father simply did not want to see him anymore. Desperate to make things right, to make his father happy again, Athrun did something that he never would have were the circumstances different.

Athrun walked into his father's office quietly, trying to be as respectful as possible. Bowing his head slightly, he shuffled over to the huge desk that dominated the room. His father looked up from the report he was staring at and threw a questioning look at his only son. "Yes Athrun?"

"Father, I..."

"Spit it out."

Athrun flinched at the harsh tone. He looked up to meet his father's piercing gaze.

"These events, I want to..."

Patrick glared at him. Athrun gulped.

"Well?"

"I want to...help."

Patrick's eyebrows rose, and he leaned forward in his chair, suddenly interested.

"What exactly do you mean by 'help', Athrun?"

"Umm... I just can't..."

"Can't what?"

Athrun's eyes clouded over.

"Stand by and watch."

His father turned in his chair, facing the other way. Athrun stared hopefully at the back of his head, praying for a pleased reaction from his father. After a few moments of tense silence, he turned back to his son. Athrun looked at him expectantly.

"Are you saying that you want to join the military?"

Athrun nodded stiffly.

"And fight?"

Again, another nod.

Patrick sighed. Athrun held his breath.

"Fine, I will allow it."

Athrun's heart sank. He was hoping for a more proud reaction. A more enthusiastic reaction. But it seemed that even his father's pleasure at seeing his son do the things he wanted him to do had died. Thanking his father formally, he left the room, going up to his bedroom. Staring blankly at the wall, Athrun made a ferverant silent vow. No matter what happened, no matter what he felt, he would make his father happy again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Please don't sue me, I'm not claiming anything.

**Warnings: **Well, Athrun does think the "H" word, but, that's about it.

**COOKIES: **Thank you reckless-rage and Prince-in-Disguise for reviewing. Hope you enjoyed your cookies!

**Reviewers still get cookies! Please review:)

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**I'm Sorry**

Athrun hid behind the wall of the Military Training Facility. He could hear his father talking to one of the instructors there, a cold looking man with blue eyes and a black moustache. He didn't like it in here. It was chilly, silent, and austere. Athrun took a deep breath. He had to pull himself together. He was 15, and was supposed to be able to handle things like this. It was his father's expectation. Running his hand up the wall, Athrun wondered exactly what he was planning to accomplish by coming here. It wasn't like there was anything dramatic he could do. _Is this just to please my father, or is there some other reason?_ He curled his fingers into small fists, remembering what he had said to Kira about his opinion on war. _I hate war. What am I doing here?_ Shaking his head, Athrun curved his head around the corner slightly, trying to catch more of the conversation.

"My son is not the brightest when it comes to tactics, so I expect extra stress to be put on those matters. Also, I need you to toughen him up a bit. He's much too compassionate. Seems he inherited too many things from his mother. Not characteristics I want to have my son to have."

Athrun's eyes widened. He had never heard his father talk about his mother. Much less talk about her in a distasteful way. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry for being this way._

"Another thing I would like to add onto his training is more guns and field work. I've already tried working on those particular things, but he was always reluctant to actually hold the gun, much less run with it."

Athrun felt his insides clench. His father thought he was a coward. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry!_

"Also, keep him from doing things like building little machines and such. I don't know how that talent came into his genes. I didn't ask for that! It's expectable for charming girls, like Lacus Clyne, but I don't want my son growing up to be some kind of...mechanic." Patrick spat the last word like it was an insult.

Athrun flinched. _Why is that bad father? Why does that inspire disgust in you? Why do I inspire disgust in you?_

"I have him waiting in the hallway over there. I can call him over, so you can tell him the expectations and such. Would you like to do that now, Head Instructor Broadfast?"

Athrun heard a small sound of confirmation from the Head Instructor, and turned his head quickly back around the corner. He heard a clack of boots as his father turned to the hallway. "Athrun!"

He quickly rounded the corner, trying to look as professional and as brave as his father wanted him to be. "Yes father?" Patrick nodded at the man with the cool eyes. Athrun tried to meet the man's gaze steadily. The man looked him up and down, his eyes narrowed in calculation. Athrun swallowed, suddenly feeling like he was under a human X-ray machine. He could feel his father's eyes on the back of his head too, burning a hole in his head. Out of nervous habit, he started to shift his feet, making soft scratching sounds on the tiled floor. He could almost hear his father's scowl.

The Instructor finished his examination, and looked Athrun straight in the eyes. Athrun took all the courage he could muster and put it up in his gaze, meeting the blue stare evenly, even if his legs were shaking. The man gave one more sweeping glance, then turned to Patrick again. "He'll do. I'll put him with Amalfi and Mackenzie. He seems like the same type." His father nodded in acceptance. Without a word to Athrun, he saluted the Instructor, and turned and headed down the hallway. Athrun tried to ignore it and pretend that it was normal, but it must have shown up in his eyes because the Instructor frowned a bit. Motioning for Athrun to follow, the Instructor headed through a door on the right hand side. Athrun entered what looked like a small office. It had a desk with piles of information disks, each labelled with a different name. There were certificates and pictures on the walls, and large information posters on the four ACTS of gun safety. The Instructor sat down in a wooden chair on one side of the desk, and motioned for Athrun to sit in the one opposite. Athrun sat down, trying not to look apprehensive as the man pulled out a blank disk and put it into the computer. Looking up from the keyboard, the man shifted his seat and met Athrun's gaze again. "So, tell me, what made you want to enrol in the military?"

Athrun blinked at the unexpected question. "I guess I want to do something about this conflict. I just want to help end all this. I want to do my part, after what happened with Junius Seven." _And to please my father._

The Instructor nodded, typing. "I see, and what qualities do you have that you consider useful to the military?"

Athrun really didn't know how to answer that. "Well, umm, I guess I know how to work with machines..." He finished off on an uncertain note.

The man nodded again, still typing. "Good, and one more question, if given the choice to kill or die, which would you take?"

Athrun blanched. _How the hell am I supposed to answer that question? _He struggled for an answer. "Ah, I...well... I guess it depends."

"Depends on what?"

Athrun thought for a second. "On what I'm killing or dying for."

The man typed for a few seconds longer, his face hidden. Athrun could have sworn there was a smile on his lips.

"Very good, Athrun Zala. You will be referring to me as Head Instructor Broadfast. I will be teaching tactics and strategy. You will be introduced to your other teachers later." He printed off a small slip of paper and handed it to Athrun. "Here's your rooming arrangements. You'll be with Nicol Amalfi and Rusty Mackenzie. You will be learning Moblie Suit Piloting and Maintenence. This will be your job in the military if you graduate." Athrun looked down at the small slip of paper, his eyebrows thrown up in question. _Mobile Suit Piloting and Maintenance?_The Head Instructor leaned over the piles on the desk to be almost at face level with Athrun. "Understood?"

Athrun blinked. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

He could feel embarrassment rising in his cheeks. "Yes, Head Instructor Broadfast."

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**Authors Note: **If anyone seems OOC, tell me and I'll try to fix it! (i'm trying very hard to keep all the characters IC)

Thanx for reading:D


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: FAN-fiction. I don't own gundam seed.**

**Cookies: Thank you so much Prince-in-Disguise and reckless-rage for reviewing! :D**

**Note: **FINALLY THE SITE DECIDES TO WORK!! I couldn't upload all of yesterday and some of today! So annoying. So, this chapter is again kind of short, but I wanted to end it there because the ending seemed to kind of fit for the timeline of the chapter. I hope you enjoy!

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**The Innocent Soldier**

Athrun walked slowly towards his newly assigned dorm room, his head held downwards. He felt as if he were taking a long walk towards his own death, or some horrible torture of an un-nameable nature. _What am I doing here? _He clenched his fist tighter around his suitcase. _What am I doing here? What am I doing here? What am I... _His thoughts stopped abruptly as he came upon the door with the same number that was on the piece of paper. It looked like any other metal sliding door in the institution, aside from a different number inscribed on the plate above the door. _This is it. _Hesitantly, he raised his hand to just hover above the surface of the door, his tightly clenched fingers shaking. _I can do this, can I? I can't, can I? I have to, but do I? _His inner turmoil continued as he stared at the door, his fist still resting just above the metal. _I can't I can't I can't! YOU HAVE TO! _His own voice thundered through his head, causing him to jerk his arm suddenly forwards to knock firmly against the door. He held his breath as a soft clicking sound advanced towards the door. There was a light tapping of keys, and the door slowly swung open. Athrun didn't know what he was really expecting, but the person suddenly revealed to him was definitely not it.

A young boy was standing there, his brown eyes shining with youthful innocence. He didn't look older than Athrun, in fact, he looked ages younger. Green locks fell down around his face, framing it in the style of the old paintings of Gabriel. His mouth was curved up in a welcoming smile, and his hands were resting loose along the sides of his bright orange uniform. "Hello," he said in a pleasant voice, "You must be Athrun Zala."

Athrun broke his gaze from the boy's face, overcoming his intial shock. "Umm, yes... I am." The young boy smiled and held out a hand. Athrun looked at it in surprise, suddenly forgetting what to do. The boy giggled.

"You're supposed to shake it, as a sign of welcome. Never had a handshake before?" His smile twitched into an amused grin.

"Oh!" Athrun suddenly realized how rude he was being. Grasping the boy's hand firmly, he shook it. "Umm... Athrun Zala."

The boy nearly laughed aloud at his second introduction of himself. "Nicol Amalfi," he returned, "Welcome the ZAFT training center." Athrun blinked twice, still trying to get over the fact that Nicol was so young, and so... carefree. He didn't seem the type to be a soldier. Not at all. Nicol walked further into the room, making a beckoning motion with his hands. "Well, come on in. Make yourself at home."

Athrun walked in, gradually taking in his surroundings. It was a plain white room with four bunk beds lining the walls, each bed made up with tight white sheets and a red blanket. The ZAFT insignia stretched across a flag adorning the two windows which faced out to a giant parade square where squads could be seen marching back and forth. Two desks rested on opposite corners of the room, a computer resting on each, soft lights blinking. Eight dressers rested against the remaining free wall space, though only two of them actually had items on them. Finally, there was a single door on the middle of the right wall, which Athrun assumed led to a bathroom.

To put things short, it had the exact opposite feel of the rest of the facility.

"Not what you were expecting, huh?"

Athrun looked up in surprise to see Nicol smiling at him knowingly. "No," he said, starting to get more comfortable with this new person, "Not exactly."

"They always make the rest of the facility so austere, it feels like you're walking through a funeral home or something..." Nicol patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry though, the military isn't as cold and indifferent as it might seem to be." He laughed a little and looked around the room. "So, which bed would you like? You can take any one of them really, there's only me and Rusty. We're in the lower bunks by the window."

Athrun didn't really know what to say. He wasn't really used to having people asking what he wanted. He was mostly told what he would do, where he would go, and when he would do it. The military was the last place he expected to have these choices available to him. "Ummm... it doesn't really matter to me."

Nicol tipped his head to the side, looking over Athrun. "Alright then, why not the bunk directly above mine?" He pointed to the top bunk in the furthest right corner. "That alright?"

"S-sure..." Athrun looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder again. Nicol was looking at him, concern shining in his brown eyes.

"There's no need to be scared or anything. Sure, you enrolled in the military and now you're going to have to fight, but that doesn't mean that anyone is going to shoot you or anything. That's the enemy's job." Athrun bit his lower lip, suddenly ashamed that his fear was so obvious. "It's alright, it's just that you'll fail the basic tests if you show fear." Nicol lifted his hand off of Athrun's shoulder, making eye contact. "Okay?" he asked, his innocence still radiating off him like a cloud.

Athrun blinked. "Okay." He responded firmly, lifting his case and throwing it onto the top bunk that Nicol had gestured at earlier. Nicol smiled at him again. Athrun was wondering how a person could smile that much. They weren't fake smiles either, they were true, genuine smiles. _He's too content to be a person that's enrolled in the military. _

"Okay, Rusty probably down at dinner already, so we can go down there if you're hungry. Or we can go down to supply and get you fitted for your uniform. What would you like to do?" Nicol looked up at Athrun expectantly, waiting for an answer. Athrun looked back blankly, not really sure what to say. He really wasn't good at this.

"Not really good at making decisions, are you?" Nicol once again knew exactly what was going through Athrun's mind. Athrun shook his head slowly, his eyes falling to the ground. "Let's go get you fitted then. That way no one will stare at you when you walk around because you're not in uniform." Nicol turned towards the door, making motions for Athrun to follow. Athrun fell in step behind him, but stopped as a sudden thought came to his mind.

"Nicol..."

"Yes?"

"How old are you?"

Nicol blinked at the question. "15, why'd you ask?"

Athrun blanched as a fresh wave of embarrassment and confusion washed over him. _He's younger than I am!_


End file.
